Improbable Love
by ThatShyCrazyGurl
Summary: Molly Hooper, the shy, mousy pathologist at St. Bart's, is trying to move on from Sherlock Holmes. She knows that she does count to him, but not in the way she wanted. So, she decides to take a vacation in Miami and stay far away as possible from a certain Consulting Detective. Meanwhile, Sherlock has an unexpected case (a 10), which makes him realize his true feelings for Molly.
1. Author's Note

Hi, my username is ThatShyCrazyGurl and this is definitely a Sherlolly story! I hope that you guys enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it. Unlike the other Fanfiction writers, I am probably not going to update often. So please bear with me. But I will try my very best to update whenever possible!

Thanks!

-ThatShyCrazyGurl


	2. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Her breath quickened, as did her pulse. She felt exhilarated and free, like a bird. She knew in her gut that whatever happened next was for the best. If it meant that she was saving the man she loved, then she would do it. Even if it meant death. _

_She was to jump off a 10-story building so the secrets that she'd learned would die along with her. So she could be free from this miserable and cruel world. A bitter laugh escaped from her mouth. No one was going to care after her death, not really. She was that shy, mousy pathologist who had a crush on a certain Consulting Detective. _

_And even if there were people who would grieve over her, they would eventually move on. Just like they always do. The truth was that, after her father died, her life turned grey and bleak. It was as if a part of her died along with him. _

_Molly took a deep breath and looked up at the blue sky. Then she closed her eyes and jumped. If anyone had glanced up at the sky, they would see a falling angel. Her auburn hair billowing around her as sunlight hit her pale, creamy skin. She was beautiful and courageous. A real angel, indeed. _

"_No! Molly stop! Molly!"_

_A crowd had surrounded the building and familiar faces among them had horror-stricken faces. She was falling. Plummeting to her immediate death. Molly Hooper was going to die. _


	3. Eight Months Earlier

**8 months earlier**

"Ah, Dr. Hooper. Please, come in. What can I do for you?" A stout man, with glasses welcomed the shy, mousy pathologist inside his office.

"Mike, I-I was wondering if I could…." Molly trailed off. She cleared her throat and continued, more confidently. "I want to take a leave. Only for a couple of months or so." She added, hastily when she saw his eyes widen.

But she misinterpreted his surprise. He was glad that she was finally taking a well-deserved break. He had known Molly for several years now, so he knew that she was a hardworking and selfless woman.

"No need, Molly. Take as much time as you want. You deserve a vacation from all this." Mike said, gesturing around the morgue. "And from Sherlock." He muttered under his breath.

The pathologist beamed.

"Thank you, Mike. I promise I won't stay away too long." She assured him, but he only waved it off.

"Like I said before, take as much time as you want. Or else I might have to pay you to take a break!" He replied, jokingly. He removed his glasses and wiped them with a tissue.

Molly thanked him again and left the room, with high spirits. She didn't even bother to empty the contents from her locker, since there wasn't anything priceless or invaluable. So instead, she hailed a cab and went directly to her flat.

Meanwhile, Sherlock was still in his silky blue bathrobe, bored out of his mind. Lestrade never responded to his text that he had sent five minutes ago. So the Consulting Detective did what he usually did when he didn't have a case: moping around the flat, pouting like a child.

"Sherlock, why don't you go to St. Bart's and this time _ask _Molly for a new hand? The last one has mold all over it." Suggested John, shuddering at the thought of mold on a decaying hand.

"That was for an experiment, John! But fine, I will go to St. Bart's for a brain, this time. I need to dissect and examine the frontal lobe of the cerebrum, which holds all the planning/reasoning, problem-solving, recognizing, regulating emotion, and social skills."

John blinked.

"All-righty then. Well, you go do that. I am going to the movies with Mary. She's been dying to see this new movie with Tom Cruise and Emily Blunt. I think it's called Edge of Tomorrow or something and Mary said that it's like Inception. Anyways, you're probably ignoring me again in your mind palace."

Sherlock looked at John, startled.

"Did you say something?" He asked, confused.  
>John sighed and shook his head. "Nope, I didn't say anything at all. I better head off, Mary might hit me again… because of the hormones."<p>

He turned and walked out the door.

"Ah, Molly! There you are."

"Ahhhh!"

Sherlock stared down at Molly, both concerned and amused. "Are you alright, Molly?"

The young pathologist crossed her arms and pretended to be stern. "W-what are you doing here, Sherlock? And scaring me like that!"

"Oh stop your whining. I went to St. Bart's, but you weren't there. When I asked Mike Stamford, he said that you were probably in your flat, getting ready for your trip." He paused. "You packed three bags, which means you are planning to stay there for a couple of months or so. And I see a swimsuit lying around, so you're going to a warmer place, preferably south of London. And your passport and ticket is lying on the table, which means you're going out of the country and maybe even out of Europe too. Your ticket says that you're going to Miami, Florida." He deduced, with a pleased smile on his face.

Then the words sunk in.

"Wait, Molly you can't go!"

Molly rolled her eyes.

"I already sent an email to the pathologist who is subbing for me, about allowing you full access to the morgue and to not bug you when you're in your mind palace. I told her practically everything that she needed to know about you." She smiled sweetly. "So, don't worry Sherlock."

The tall man managed a small smile. Molly was so affectionate and selfless, not just to him but to everyone. After the Fall, he realized that sentiment wasn't such a bad thing after all. While he was dismantling Moriarty's network, he would often think about John, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, and even Molly. They were the reason why he fought.

"Thank you." He whispered, his deep voice sounding hoarse.

Surprising them both, Molly wrapped her arms around his waist. Since she was so tiny, she only reached to his shoulders. Sherlock froze.

But then, he slowly wrapped his arms around her, awkwardly. He could feel warmth radiating from her body and felt something in the pit of his stomach. And something told him that it wasn't hunger pangs.

Suddenly, the phone in her pocket started to vibrate. They sprang apart, while Molly blushed. She couldn't believe that she just hugged Sherlock bloody Holmes! And he hugged her back!

She ignored the thoughts and instead pulled her phone. She pressed the 'Talk' button.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mols!" A familiar voice greeted cheerfully.

She pulled the phone from her ear, and smiled apologetically to Sherlock. 'Sorry, I have to take this call' she mouthed. Sherlock nodded and quietly opened the door knob. He turned and looked back. Molly was smiling brightly and talking animatedly. The sunlight from the windows made her hair look shinier and as if a halo was above her head. Her doe-like brown eyes were sparkling brightly. This was the Molly Hooper that he was fond of. The real Molly. 


	4. Molly Lashing Out in the Elevator

"Hi, I booked a room two weeks ago under the name, Molly Hooper." The hotel receptionist smiled at her and nodded his head. "Yes, ma'am. Here's your room key card. Hope you have a wonderful stay at the Hilton Resort." He replied. Molly thanked him and took the card.

The receptionist called a bellhop to help her with the luggage. Once he arrived, he and Molly loaded the cargo onto the cart and pushed it into the elevator.

"Thank you, um…" Molly trailed off. The bellhop grinned and removed his hat. Molly's eyes widened. She gasped.

"John?! What are you doing here?" She asked.

"Case." He replied.

Molly sighed and rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me Sherlock is here too.

"Fine, John don't tell her that I'm here." A deep baritone voice said sarcastically.

This time both John and Molly rolled their eyes.

"So you left Mary at home?"

"Uh actually no. She's in the hotel room, probably getting a medi-pedi or a massage." He said, with a chuckle. "I wish I was there with her though…" He trailed off. "Anyways, we were wondering if you would join us on the case?"

Molly raised an eyebrow.

"_Me_? Why?"

Sherlock sighed exasperatedly.

"Because I need a date for entrance. Really Molly, you need to catch up." He said, sneering. "But I guess it hard for you_ ordinary_ people."

Molly glared at him so hard that it made him flinch.

"How dare you?! How dare you just show up, after knowing that I was on vacation, and then make fun of my "ordinariness" as you so _kindly_ put it. I've had enough, William Sherlock Scott Holmes! I am sick of the way you treat me or talk to me! All I wanted was a nice little vacation here in Miami, yet here YOU ARE being your usual ignorant and rude prat!" She exploded, laced with venom and pent-up anger.

Both John and Sherlock stared at her, startled and a bit fearful of the petite pathologist (who wasn't so mousy after all). As soon as the elevator doors opened, Molly pushed the cart with her luggage and stomped off. Leaving Sherlock and John frozen in their spots, with shocked expressions etched on their face. Although, John was also amused but tried not to show it because only God knows what the man child standing next to him would do if he saw his best friend laughing at him!


	5. Sherlock Apologizing to Molly!

Sherlock took the spare room key card and opened Molly's hotel room door. He looked around and heard the water running. Ah, she was in the bathroom. Well, all he had to do as apologize and then they could continue with their plan for tonight.

After Molly left, John yelled at him and then gave him a silent treatment. After the Fall, Molly helped John overcome his depression and shock over Sherlock's "death". The two would meet up at a café and talk about Sherlock. Then a couple of years later, John met Mary Morstan, the sassy new nurse at the clinic. Although he and Molly didn't meet as frequently, they still had a brother-sister relationship. However, after Sherlock returned and John learned that Molly aided in his "death", their relationship became strained. But at John and Mary's wedding, the two friends made up. And now they were closer than ever. So it was understandable that John would feel protectiveness anytime someone (*cough* Sherlock *cough*) insulted her.

"Molly?"

"Sherlock is that you?!"

Sherlock couldn't help but smirk. "Yep, it's me."

"I'm in the shower, you big doofus! What are you doing here, anyways?"

"Uh…I-I am sorry. For earlier."

Molly turned off the shower faucet and pushed back the shower curtains. She reached for her big white towel and dried herself. Once she was done, she quickly pulled on her undergarments and tied her bathrobe tightly.

She made her way into the room and offered the detective a shy smile. She gestured for him to sit down and crossed her arms across her chest. Sherlock took this as cue to start talking.

"Look, Molly….I know I'm horrible at apologizing, but can you please forgive me?" He pleaded with her. His usual icy-cold eyes softened, which made them look as if they were baby blue. He pulled a bag from behind and handed it to Molly.

"What is this?" She asked, eyeing the bag skeptically.

The Consulting Detective rolled his eyes. "It's for the Winter Ball that's being held at some five-star hotel. You are wearing that dress for the _date_. Open it, Molly."

Molly huffed but complied. She opened the bag and pulled out a beautiful dark royal blue chiffon V-neck neckline sleeveless floor-length dress. It even had some sequins strewed over the midline. Molly gasped. She never wore a dress like this before, not even to prom. She shook her head.

"There is no way I'm wearing this!"

Sherlock, who was hurt by this comment, furrowed his eyebrows. But he quickly deduced the reason why she had said that.

"Molly, don't worry this dress wasn't too expensive. Besides, it's a gift. I can't and won't take it back." He firmly stated. He gave her a stern look.

She laughed and held her hands out in surrender. "Okay, okay, you got me. Thank you for the dress, Sherlock." She paused and ran her fingers through the fabric of the dress. "It's absolutely gorgeous, that's for sure."

Hearing this, Sherlock replied, "I'm glad you feel that way. Though, I believe that this dress _pales_ in comparison to you, Molly Hooper." He winked. Molly blushed, her cheeks now bright pink. Her head hung low, not believing his words.

Surprising them both, Sherlock lifted her chin and made her look at him. "Molly, I know that you don't believe my words but what I said is true. You're not just aesthetically pleasing; you're also beautiful inside. While you may be ordinary, you are pretty clever, Molly. Your kindness, gentle nature, stubbornness, and intelligence are all traits that correspond to your beauty."

Molly looked up, smiling brightly. She wrapped her arms around his abdomen and hugged him. "Thank you, Sherlock," she whispered. This time, the detective was ready. He hugged her small body closer to him and leant down to kiss her cheek.

"Your very welcome, Molly Hooper."


End file.
